“It was a very… carefully judged address this year.”

“It was all shit. But what should I say? The truth? I’m no keener on climbing the Tower of Chains than anyone else. Though no one will need to climb soon.” He dabbed at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’ve been commissioned to install a hoist.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The Burners can’t march the prisoners up the stairway fast enough. They cry, they faint, they beg for mercy. Judge wants me to build a steam-powered platform that can haul two dozen at a time.”

Savine’s skin prickled under her dress. “Oh.” What else could be said to that?

“When I was a boy,” muttered Curnsbick, “patriotism was kissing the flag and pretending to love the king. Now, suddenly, it’s spitting on the king and having poor furniture. One must keep a close eye on the current definitions. To be unpatriotic would be terrible. To be patriotic in the wrong way could be fatal. I feel I can admit to you, as an old friend, that since the Great Change… I am constantly terrified.” He gave a little laugh, but she could see tears on his cheeks. He removed his lenses and wiped them on the back of his sleeve.

Savine put a gentle hand on his arm. “I hardly think you are alone in that.”

“I freely admit that I have never been a brave man. Once, out in the Far Country, I met a fellow called Lamb, who had travelled hundreds of miles, facing down Ghosts and mercenaries and Dragon People and every danger searching for his children. Whatever the odds, he simply… would not be cowed. I think about him often. I wish I was more like him, but every day out there, I was scared. I am—”

“You are an inventor.” She took his hot, limp, sticky hand between hers. “You have done more good in the world than a thousand warriors. Show me someone who denies it and I’ll spit in their eye.”

He gave a brittle smile. “I believe you would.”

“Citizeness Brock.” The speaker had curly hair and was unremarkable apart from his different-coloured eyes. “I was hoping I might see you here.”

“Citizen Sulfur… is that the right term of address for a magus?”

“I hardly know the right terms for anything these days. Even if I did, I fear they would be the wrong ones by tomorrow morning.”

“What brings you back to the Solar Society?”

“I have a great deal of money to invest, in fact.”

“Then you will not be short of friends here. Commissioner Pike’s tireless crusade against the banks has made investment hard to come by.”

“I understand you are providing bread and coal to the poor. Perhaps we might do some good together? Would you consider accepting a loan…?”

Savine felt a coldness on the back of her neck. She remembered her father’s words. About magi. About Bayaz. About Valint and Balk. She made sure she kept smiling, but she made sure she was firm. “I am afraid I cannot help you.”